


Imperator

by Cadjet001



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: BDSM, Body Worship, Community: femslash_kink, Cunnilingus, F/F, Mind Control, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 03:46:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16077716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cadjet001/pseuds/Cadjet001
Summary: For the 2017 Femslash Kink Meme. Fire Emblem: Tharja/Aversa, mind control training, cunnilingus, body worship, submission kink





	Imperator

The Imperator tome is beautiful. The cover is plain black leather, the pages are thick brown vellum and the handwriting is a forest of needles. The images are half-horrific, half-erotic, the text a dreamlike blend of precise magical formulae and maniacal occult poetry. Tharja doesn’t understand half of it yet; every page sets her mind whirling with some fantastic new implication. Dark magic is a consuming, dangerous passion and Tharja is in its grip, tighter than she has ever known. She resents having to eat, resents having to sleep, resents everything that comes between her and the tome. 

She doesn’t resent training with Aversa. Aversa is the only thing more beautiful than the tome. 

Stripped of her finery, Tharja’s lover looks like a confection ready eat. Her skin is coffee, her hair is cream, her nipples are two dabs of strawberry pink crowning her plump breasts. She stands naked in front of a full length mirror with her back to Tharja, her clothes strewn on the floor around her. Tharja is seated in a low chair, holding the precious tome and wearing nothing but her vest. The tome rests on a table beside her. It’s a devilishly hot summer day outside, but Tharja’s bedroom is pleasantly cool. 

“Look at me and marvel.” Aversa speaks to Tharja’s reflection. “Aren’t I the most beautiful of all Pelagia’s daughters? Am I not the most skilled mage in Ylisse? Isn’t it hard for you to sit there, looking like a dowdy peasant girl next to me?” She reaches out to trace the line of Tharja’s reflected chin with her fingertip. “Why don’t you crawl over her and worship my ass like the slattern you are?” She leans towards the glass and whispers to Tharja’s reflection. “You know that’s what you were made for, you little whore.” Her voice is right there in Tharja’s ear.

“That’s a good trick, little pussycat” says Tharja. “You can teach it to me, once you finish your cream.” She spreads her legs and jabs a purple-nailed finger at her groin. “Here kitty kitty…”

“How dare you refuse me!” says Aversa. “Do you want me to humble you the hard way?” 

“Naughty kitten,” says Tharja as she stands up. “Are you going to make me clip those claws?” She places the tome on the air beside her and it hangs there under its own power. Aversa smiles…

And without warning she lashes out of the imperator curse. Rays of black light leap from her eyes towards Tharja, who raises her hands to ward it off. She feels the curse strike her like a physical blow, rough, clumsy and imprecise. Her counterspell holds and with a spasm of mental effort she throws the curse back at Aversa. Her partner’s legs buckle from the shock, but she recovers, counters and turns the spell back to its original target. It’s as though a pair of hands are clasped around Tharja’s face, sharp fingers trying to force their way under her skin to…to…

The horrible feeling is gone, replaced by a strange emptiness, a sudden absence of thought. Tharja can still see Aversa, but her nakedness no longer means anything. Her fingers are twitching in a complex rhythm, and she’s chanting meaningless word. Tharja can’t tell if Aversa’s voice is soft or harsh, quiet or loud, addressing her talking to the air. The sense of physical force is back, but now it feels like she’s being tied up, like heavy belts .are being pulled tight and buckled up all around her body. It’s a strange feels, but not unpleasant. Not unpleasant at all…

“I win this round,” says Avera. Tharja giggles stupidly, not knowing any other way to react. “Worship me,” says Aversa, and this time her voice is beside Tharja’s ear rather than coming from her mouth. The command is soft and gentle and it makes the most beautiful kind of sense to Tharja. Of course she’ll crawl over to where Aversa is standing and lavish her feet with kisses. She’s already there, pressing her lips against the dainty brown foot, relishing the hardness of bone, the contrasting textures of skin and nail, the soft prickle of recently shaved hair as she makes her way up Avera’s shin. Warmth spreads through her, a sense of happiness that fills her up from head to toe like a warm post coital hug.

“Take your vest off,” says the voice again. Tharja is amazed at her own silliness; how did she forget to take the little garment off? Of course she should bare her all for the magnificent woman standing over her. She shrugs off the little piece of silk and goes back to kissing, over the hard curve of Aversa’s knee and up the soft plane of her thigh. 

Aversa turns on the spot just as Tharja approaches her prize and slaps herself sharply on the ass. Through her warm haze she recognised the significance of what she has to do. It’s so embarrassing to kiss her partner’s buttocks, so humiliating to run her tongue over those wonderful planes of soft, warm flesh, so very very right that she should be down here on floor while Aversa is up there.

Aversa stands facing the mirror for a long time, to see if the curse will hold without further instructions. She sings the national anthem under her breath, counts backwards from one thousand, studies her face for imperfections in the mirror. Tharja keeps kissing throughout, until finally Aversa is satisfied; she turns and walks over to her bed. Tharja blinks blearily, then remembers her task and follows on her hands and needs. Her eyes are wide and full of innocent desire, her lips puckered and needy.

“Now the other side,” Aversa whispers through their mental link. She spreads her legs, and Tharja hurries to obey.


End file.
